A tin can falls from a manís hand into a ditch

By the side of a country road.

In a nearby town the man who sold this man this can

Sells another man another.

In a factory not too far away a machine squirts into yet another can

The same sugary liquid that the man has just drunk.

In another factory another machine folds a piece of metal

Into the shape of the can that contained the drink.

In a foundry somewhere in the world a furnace makes the metal

Of which this can and all the other cans are made.

In a mine somewhere deep in the ground a miner hacks at the black rock

That goes to fire the furnace to melt the metal.

And on an idyllic island in the South Pacific a giant jaw

Takes another bite out of a mighty mountain

To mine the ore from which the metal is made.

But the man who dropped the can walks on

And does not think of the implications of his act.

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